


He's got the Jack

by Lakritzwolf



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://gatheringfiki.tumblr.com/post/127826595685/summer-fandom-raffle-exchange-prompts-masterlist">Summer Raffle Fandom Exchange</a>  on tumblr<br/>Prompt 22: The only time I will ever do this.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	He's got the Jack

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to the song linked.

This one time, Anders had forgotten himself and had gone too far. One needling little joke too many, and Mitchell had gotten up and left without a word or a look back. And now Anders was left to pick up the pieces. He had to fix this. But he had no idea how.

The only thing he was sure of was that eventually, Mitchell would come back, if only for his stuff, and when he did, Anders would be ready. Ready for what, he didn’t have a fucking clue. Yet. 

Anders got the right inspiration the next evening when he was staring listlessly at his tellie. And came next morning he went to work but left earlier to do some shopping. 

He had to wait for another two days, but then, finally, Mitchell was back when he came home from work. 

Worst case scenario. He was packing.

“Mitch? What are you doing?”  
“The fuck does it look like?”  
“Looks like as if you’re packing your shit.”  
“Yes!” Mitchell looked up, an utterly bright, faked grin on his face. “Yes, I’m packing! I’ve had enough of you and your stupid jokes.”  
Anders lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, you know.”  
“Yes, just like you were last time, and the time before.”  
“Mitch...”  
“Just... shut the fuck up.”

“No.” Anders touched Mitchell’s arm. “Please. No more jokes. I mean it. I swear. And I’m going to show you.”  
Mitchell crossed his arms. “Show me what?”  
Anders bit his upper lips. “How much you mean to me, John.”

Mitchell crossed his arms and lifted his eyebrows. “If you think you can buy me, Anders, then you’re mistaken.”  
Anders’s smile was back. “Oh, this is we you’re wrong. I would never ever think of trying to buy you.”  
“Then what?” Mitchell dropped his hands and took a deep breath. He ran his hands through his hair and turned his unruly curls into a mess. 

“I...” Anders said slowly, “... am not going to try and buy you, John. I am going to try and sell me.”  
That brought Mitchell up short and he ran his hands through his hair to smooth it back. “You what?”  
“You gonna humour me?” Anders took his elbow. “Please?”

Mitchell met his eyes, and for a long, hard moment, Anders was able to hold his gaze before he lowered his eyes. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Mitchell threw his hands into the air. “Fine!”  
Anders looked up with a coy little smile. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”  
“Says you. What did ye do? Buy a new toy?”  
“No.” Anders went to the kitchen and produced a glass and a bottle of whiskey. “No toys.” He walked over to Mitchell and offered him the glass.  
“I thought you weren’t going to buy me?”  
“Oh, I’m not buying you,” Anders gave back with a smile. “I’m offering you a drink.”

Mitchell lifted his eyebrows but took the glass. His eyes and face lit up when he registered the fragrance. 

“It’s a rare bottle from [Cadenhead's Authentic Collection](http://www.celticwhiskeyshop.com/irish-whiskey-home-page/irish-whiskeys-from-a-to-z/cadenhead-jameson-bow-st-27-year-old). Best Irish whiskey I could get my hands on.”  
Mitchell brought the tumbler to his lips and his eyes fell shut in bliss.  
“Like it?”  
Mitchell did not fail to notice the mildly anxious tone in Anders’s question and felt his heart soften a little. “It’s... yeah, it’s great.” He even managed a smile now. “Really great stuff.”

Anders sighed with a nod. “One down.”  
Mitchell looked at him over the rim of his glass. “How many more to go?”  
“Only one,” Anders said, his smile less cocky now. “So, if you wouldn’t mind relocating into the bedroom?”  
The wariness was back in Mitchell’s eyes. “Is this about sex, then? Nothing else on your mind?”  
“No.” Anders rolled his shoulders. “And yes. But... please? You can take your clothes off. Or not. Just as you like.”

Now Mitchell was seriously intrigued despite himself. Shaking his head he made his way to the bedroom, shrugged off his shirt and got rid of his socks before making himself comfortable on the bed. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Anders entered the bedroom moments after he had settled down, and it was then that Mitchell registered the music. [Slow, rhythmic electric guitar.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7t1fxpImhU) He knew that song, but his brain refused to supply him with the name of either band or song. It was on the tip of his tongue...

Anders now gave him a dark, smouldering look, and that look made Mitchell shift his position. He took a sip of his whiskey. 

“If this doesn’t do the trick then I don’t know what will,” Anders said slowly. “Because this is the only time I will ever do this.”  
“Do what?” Mitchell took another sip of whiskey. 

And then it clicked. His brain had just recognised the song coming from the stereo in the living room, and he realised at the same moment that Anders was still fully dressed; suit, tie and everything. His mouth went dry, and he leaned back, feeling warmth spread in his abdomen.

Without taking his eyes off Mitchell’s, Anders slowly undid his tie, and with a slow, deliberate move, he pulled it out from under his collar before dropping it. 

Mitchell took a deep breath through his nose and then a hasty sip of whiskey.

Anders looked down as he started to unbutton his jacket, but as he had opened the last button and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders, he smiled at Mitchell again, a slow, sensuous smile that actually held a trace of nervousness as well. Mitchell took another small sip of whiskey and stretched out his legs before him before crossing them at the ankles.

The shirt was next; Anders unbuttoned this too, slowly, deliberately, casting an almost shy look up at Mitchell after every single button  
Mitchell was as if hypnotized.  
And as Anders noticed Mitchell’s wide-eyed stare and his parted lips, his smile turned from nervous into something absolutely wicked.

Turning his back to Mitchell now, Anders proceeded to tug the shirt out of his waistband. His upper body was now moving ever so slightly to the rhythm of the music and then he turned around, the shirt hanging open and revealed a stripe of his toned chest covered in sandy hair. 

Mitchell adjusted his position again and was by now completely unaware of his empty stare. He took a hasty sip of whiskey again and savoured this on his tongue as long as he could while he watched Anders undo the buckle of his belt. And then Anders’s hands stopped. He looked up, met Mitchell’s eyes, and with a twitch of eyebrows, turned his back to him again and his shoulders vibrated with a silent chuckle upon hearing Mitchell’s heavy exhale of breath. He made sure to time the pulling of his zipper to a small pause between the guitar chords so Mitchell could hear it. And by the way the vampire adjusted himself again, he had.

Anders was visibly beginning to enjoy himself. He crossed his hands at the back of his neck and gyrated his hips in time with the music until the trousers had slid down to his ankles. But he still had his shirt on, so when Anders bent down to pull off his socks while he stepped free of the trousers, Mitchell couldn’t catch more than a glimpse of that arse he loved so much. 

Smiling to himself and much more sure of himself as well, Anders turned his back to Mitchell again and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled she shirt down from his shoulders. Once it was hanging from his hips and elbows, Anders turned around again but had his hands strategically crossed in front of him. Mitchell was just about to take another sip of whiskey when Anders gave him a tiny little wink, and then he dropped the shirt. The glass froze in mid-air.

Anders was left bare now, only wearing a black, silky G-string. 

Their eyes met, and Mitchell slid across the mattress to place his half-empty glass onto the nightstand. His pupils were so wide there was hardly anything left of his usual warm brown. 

“Over here,” Mitchell whispered hoarsely. Anders complied and knelt down beside him on the mattress.

Mitchell closed his eyes for a second, then he discarded his gloves and made a “turn- around” motion with his fingers. Anders flashed him a saucy smile before presenting his backside to him, and with a deep hum, Mitchell closed his hands around the perfect round globes of Anders’s perfect arse.

“Am I forgiven?” Anders asked over his shoulder in a low voice.  
Mitchell’s stare became even darker. “Keep that thing on,” he muttered huskily before getting up. He rid himself of his own clothes as fast as he could. “Almost,” he whispered when he lowered himself down again and met Anders’s eyes.  
“Almost?”  
Mitchell’s chest heaved with heavy breaths. “Eat me out,” he ordered.  
Anders lowered his eyelids and let his tongue dart out to wet his lips.  
Mitchell ground his teeth together. “I want your mouth on me. And then I am going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name. And if...” He trailed a fingernail down Anders’s chest. “...if we’re both still alive after that, then you’re forgiven.”

Before Anders could say anything else, Mitchell had buried his fingers in his hair and pulled him into a messy, hungry kiss, shoving his tongue into Anders’s mouth with a low groan. 

“Your tongue,” Mitchell growled after he pushed Anders away from him.  
And with a sweet, salacious smile, Anders positioned himself between Mitchell’s legs and grabbed a pillow that he shoved under the vampire’s hips. He spread Mitchell’s ass cheeks while licking his lips, and the ducked his head between his lover’s legs and breathed a kiss onto that intimate spot.  
“Your tongue, Anders!” Mitchell’s voice was a trembling growl.

Anders chuckled against Mitchell’s skin, but then drew his tongue across Mitchell’s hole with a sinful little hum, eliciting a deep, throaty moan. Then he worked Mitchell to the best of his abilities, alternating little teasing flicks of his tongue with generous wet swipes until Mitchell was panting so hard every breath was a hoarse moan.

“Cock,” Mitchell growled.

With another chuckle against his skin that made Mitchell twitch and moan Anders swapped location, first drawing his tongue across the perineum, then teasing Mitchell’s stones with the tip of his tongue before sucking first one, then the other into his mouth. By the time Anders had reached Mitchell’s cock the latter was cursing and swearing in a mixture of English and Gaelic while fisting the sheets under him so hard he almost ripped them apart. 

Smiling around Mitchell’s cock in his mouth Anders swirled his tongue around the head, lapped up a few salty drops from the slit at the tip, and proceeded to lower his head until his lips reached the nest of dark, wiry curls. Then he felt fingers dig into his hair and followed the tug.

“Lube,” Mitchell said, his eyes wide and his lips trembling. Anders leaned over him and reached for the nightstand, completely intentionally presenting the vampire with his arse and the black silk barely covering his own hard-on. As soon as he had the bottle in his hands, Mitchell sat up and threw Anders onto his belly. 

Anders braced himself on his forearms with a satisfied little grin. But then he felt Mitchell pull at the string between his ass cheeks and the sudden increase of pressure on his stones and his perineum made him hiss with pleasure and pain both. Mitchell pulled harder, and with a growl, and a shocked gasp from Anders, tore the string apart. Then he wasted not a single heartbeat before lathering himself and Anders with the lube. He fingered Anders open, but it was a long shot from the careful administration Anders usually got. It was a sharp sting of pleasure and pain when Mitchell buried himself into his body.

And if his goal had been to make Anders forget his own name, he got damn close now. Every hard push stroked across Anders’s hot spot, Mitchell’s fingers digging into his hips. He increased speed and ferocity until he was pounding into Anders’s body so hard the headboard of the bed knocked against the wall with each thrust, and both men were more shouting than moaning now with each forceful move,

Then Mitchell came with a bellow that rang in Anders’s ears, and collapsed onto Anders’ sweaty back with a groan. It took both men a moment until they were able to peel themselves away from each other. Mitchell fell back into the pillows with a grown, his eyes closed and his hair an absolute mess with curls sticking to his forehead ant temples.

Anders sat up on his knees and looked at the tattered remains of the G-string.

“Why did you do that? That thing was expensive.”  
“It was in my way,” Mitchell replied without opening his eyes.  
Anders dropped it with a chuckle and cautiously, moved closer to Mitchell. As soon as their bodies touched, Mitchell reached out, clamped his arms around Anders and pulled him close, curling around him and nuzzling his hair.

“Am I forgiven?” Anders asked softly after a moment.  
Mitchell’s answer was a low hum against the skin of Anders’s neck.  
“Mind if I stroke myself off? My dick hurts.”  
This time, Mitchell chuckled against his skin. “Go ahead.”  
Anders closed his eyes and he reached for himself, but before he could touch his aching dick, Mitchell’s hand beat him to it.  
“You’re forgiven,” Mitchell whispered into his ear as he closed his hand around Anders’s cock.


End file.
